


No dentist needed

by hellhoundsprey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John was proud of his boys. Sure, sometimes they had their phases where they'd refuse to listen to even the smallest "please" or "could you" or "would you" - just like any other teenagers. But at least, he thought, they were big enthusiasts when it came to dental hygiene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No dentist needed

John was proud of his boys. Sure, sometimes they had their phases where they'd refuse to listen to even the smallest "please" or "could you" or "would you" - just like any other teenagers. But at least, he thought, they were big enthusiasts when it came to dental hygiene.

 

Every evening, they would walk straight to the bathroom and stay in there, brushing their perfect little teeth, sometimes even for more like four instead of the recommended two minutes. Just one thing off the list to worry about, John rejoiced.

 

Little did he know, poor John, that as soon as the bathroom door would be shut tight behind them and the toothbrushes were stuffed into their tense little mouths, Sam would be bent over the sink, boxers shoved down, naturally. One hand moving the toothbrush in his mouth and one fingering himself open - both just as frantically as he was impatient. Big brother Dean would watch him, thin film of sweat already growing on his forehead. Busy hands would be brushing his teeth and stroking his quickly stiffening cock as he would stand closely behind Sam.

 

No words were neither needed nor wanted. They had to be quiet. No sound but the bristles against their teeth and gums to cover the slick and wet sounds that were about to drum against the tiles soon enough. Sam removing his fingers was the unmistakable sign for Dean to replace them. Smooth and quick he would slide his thick cock into the way too tight heat, skin burning, muscles fluttering, but good God, it was _perfect_.

 

After a handful of weeks, their performance was flawless. It hadn't been easy at first for both of their bodies to adjust and work so quick, yes, but it was the only possible way. At least when John was home. They both felt the need to keep it secret from their daddy. Without a question, it was not okay what they were doing. But, honestly... since when did a Winchester care about so called "social norms" anyway?

 

Being as casual as ever, carefree, walking and being around John, no suspicious glances, touches, movements, words, smiles were allowed. Just as many minutes alone together as it was necessary, as it had always been. Two minutes for brushing their teeth. Two minutes for releasing the tension and desire and want and need and _must_.

 

Dean would bang his little brother so hard against the heavy porcelain, sometimes they worried if the sink would break. If it looked too fragile, the bathtub's edge would have to do. In the beginning, Sam had had his problems keeping perfectly quiet. One sweet whimper or high pitched moan had been squeezed from his throat by way too perfect aims against his prostate, just quiet enough to not get them caught.

 

His brother always made sure to make these two minutes the best of the whole day. Each morning and each evening, pounding the hell out of his Sammy's perfect supple, tiny ass, Dean would give his best to make the following hours of waiting bearable. Sometimes, he overshot the whole thing, leaving Sam too sore to properly move or think straight afterwards - but that burning pain and humiliation and guilt sometimes was _exactly_ what both of them needed to hang on just another day.

 

Now, Sam was perfect at breathing the moans and chokes and screams away through his nose. Eyes slammed shut, bare toes curling against the cold tiles, right hand abusing his mouth with the brush, left hand braced against the sink or wall - whole body shaking under fast and heavy thrusts hammering into him. The first ten or twenty seconds were not that fun - but time was too short for a sufficient prep. Quickly, his body would adjust to the well-known invading flesh, tense muscles would practically _melt away_ under the sweet sweet pressure and silky, burning skin. Wrapped around his brother's cock nice and tight, the rim pulled and pushed with every movement, right around the base, balls deep in, pushing further and further until Sam was worried if it had reached his stomach yet.

 

Nothing else was needed for neither one of them to come in no longer than their tight schedule of two minutes. Sam did not even need a single touch on his cock, growing each and every day so fast nowadays, slapping against his stomach farther and farther up. As soon as the initial burn would fade away into pure ecstasy he would be dripping wet with precome. With almost ridiculously perfect timing, the brothers would shudder in unison - Dean's fingers bruising Sam's ass cheek with such a tight grip while his cock was milked dry with contracting squeezes right into his baby brother's ass.

 

Pulling up their boxers, wiping away Sam's come from the sink and tiles, spitting out into the sink, cleaning the brushes and putting them away. A small meeting of their eyes and then their lips, sensitive and swollen, pulsing with blood. Tiny sighs as they part again.

 

In silence, his boys would go to bed, neat and exhausted. Taking his turn to the bathroom, John would notice the bristles of their colorful toothbrushes sticking out so wildly again already. Hadn't they just gotten those only a few days ago? He would chuckle and shake his head. They really were serious about brushing their teeth.


End file.
